Page 52 of Continuum

I hated when people just dropped by unexpectedly.

“Do you want me to get it?” Kwame called up.

I pursed my lips.

If I say no, I look like I’m hiding something. If I say yes, I don’t know who it could be.I shrugged.Fuck it.

“I didn’t invite anyone over. But yeah, if you don’t mind getting it, I would appreciate it,” I replied.

I checked myself out in the full-length mirror one last time before I headed down the steps.

I heard Kwame greet someone, but it wasn’t until I was halfway down that I could hear that he was speaking to a man.

“I’ll wait and let her invite you in. She’s coming down the steps right now,” Kwame told him.

“Who are you?” the man asked.

“Ask Aisha.”

As soon as I approached the door and saw who was waiting, I stopped in my tracks.

“What are you doing here?” I blurted out.

“You haven’t answered my calls or texts since our date last night. I was worried about you,” Jordan explained as he stepped into my home.

*****

Chapter 8

Dressed in jeans and a fitted t-shirt that showed off his buff chest, Jordan Scott was as handsome as ever. He had been nothing short of a gentleman over the time we’d known each other. He had checked off more than a few of the qualities on my list and if it weren’t for his overconsumption of dessert, I would’ve fucked the life out of him after our date. But Kwame Mitchell reentered my life and recaptured my heart.

And everything happens for a reason.

“Jordan, showing up to my place without an invitation is never okay. I appreciate your concern, but this isn’t okay.”

He raised his hands. “I get that. I understand. But I put you in a car and never heard from you again. That’s not my style. That’s not how I do things. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I felt like things were going well between us and…” He cut his eyes to Kwame. “I guess I’m a little caught off guard.”

I took a step forward, closer to Kwame. “I’m not sure why you would be.”

Jordan’s sweet demeanor changed a bit when he fixated on Kwame. Reaching out his hand, he greeted the other man gruffly. “Jordan Scott.”

“Kwame Mitchell.”

I looked between the two of them. “Okay, now that you two have been introduced, Kwame and I have somewhere to be so…”

Jordan kept his eyes on Kwame. “Is this a first date?”

“No,” Kwame answered.

“You really don’t have to answer that,” I said simultaneously. Narrowing my eyes at Jordan, I gestured to the door. “You have no right to come to my home and question my guest. You need to leave.”

Jordan’s eyes pleaded as he backed his way to the door. “I thought you said I was the only man who had made it past the first date in a long time. Was that a lie?”

“No, it wasn’t,” I sighed. “Now Jordan, go.”

“You just said it last night at dinner!” he exclaimed, opening the door aggressively even though he didn’t move to exit.

Kwame stepped toward him. “She answered your questions and you can feel however you want to feel about the answer, but Aisha has asked you to leave more than once. If she has to ask you again, I’ll make sure her request is met.”

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